Dear stranger, Down the road is a bridge over a cement creek. The waters are always very low, except when it rains, then it stays high for a few days. In the middle of the creek, to the side of the bridge, is a supermarket trolley lying on its side, half submerged. I walk over the bridge most days – to the train station, or the shops, or the library – and sometimes I see two ducks standing next...
Among the perennial tasks involved in the maintenance and productivity of this (for want of a brief title) meta-journal are those related to transferring data from other sources to this location. I list the following in the format of check-boxes, despite perennial nature of these tasks, and that is due to what is mostly an aesthetic motivation, but that involves also a desire to incite activity...
Meta1: Look at yesterday and realize that I seriously need to revise my ability to use whatever code {fyi: markdown} this site uses for formatting! Meta2: Amongst the (potential) benefits of using a contents page, as introduced yesterday, is that it allows for easy copying and/or revision, and/or allowing partial-continuity and/or reference. Markdown. Diary; or, Dealing with a non-problem...
This is a log of my experiences here to date. Today I was pushed over the line and have won myself the right to vote; seems a good an occasion as any to do this. This log is not meant to be anything more than what it is: A record of some recollections that perhaps later may be of interest. If it’s ordering appears random that is because it is. My first post was Rituals of marijuana...
